


Curiosity & The Bat

by mightbeanasshole



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Animal Traits, First Time Topping, Hybrid AU, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2690846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightbeanasshole/pseuds/mightbeanasshole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A silly, porny Micheoff hybrid one-off. Because who doesn't love Bat!Geoff and Bottom!Geoff in the same story?</p><p>"Michael can’t remember who brought up sex with their boss, but after Ryan had casually mentioned topping with the bat hybrid, Michael had been more than a little intrigued."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity & The Bat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [figurativelynsfw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/figurativelynsfw/gifts).



Mornings in the Achievement Hunter office are slow.

When your boss is nocturnal, after all, work doesn’t really start until the afternoon anyway.

Michael and Ryan typically begin to run out of steam around 11 p.m., so they’d taken to coming in earlier in the day, usually joined by Lindsay, Gavin, and KDin by lunchtime. Sometimes Ray would roll in early--sometimes he wouldn’t. The slow loris’ schedule was hard to predict. Jack and Geoff would arrive in the late afternoon--a compromise, truly, because left to their own devices neither hybrid would’ve been out of bed before 7 p.m.

\---

The morning crew breaks for Chinese late on Thursday, gathering around a table outside in the sunshine. Michael is always happier when they can leave the office, even for a minute. The outdoors just have more room for them all, and it’s not such a mess of smells and tails and wings crammed into a break room. He can breathe a little--stretch his legs.

“You don’t even top when you’re with me, Michael,” Lindsay purrs, passing her container of lo mein to the terrier hybrid.

“Shut the fuck up,” Michael snaps. He bares his teeth at the lynx as he accepts the container and she flashes him an unapologetic smile. Gavin and Ryan are in a fit of laughter over her comment and KDin stuffs an egg roll into his mouth to muffle a laugh.

Michael can’t remember who brought up sex with their boss, but after Ryan had casually mentioned topping with the bat hybrid, Michael had been more than a little intrigued.

“I just can’t see it,” Gavin says. “Geoff on the bottom, I mean.” The mink’s large tail swishes softly behind him as he recovers from laughing, resuming his feverish pace eating dumplings.

“Why not?” Lindsay says, her tawny ears swiveling thoughtfully. “Geoff ‘s obviously too lazy not to be versatile.”

“It’s true,” Ryan says, gesturing towards her with his chopsticks. “You get enough liquor into Geoff and he’s going to agree to almost anything. Not that it’s ever taken liquor to make Geoff bottom enthusiastically.”

“Well he’s never offered with me,” Michael says, frowning at the boar.

“Because you’re a natural born bottom, Michael,” Gavin says through a full mouth.

“Am not,” Michael protests, blushing.

“Bullshit you’re not,” Ryan says. “That soft fur and those floppy little ears. Who could resist that cuteness?”

“I don’t even know why I talk to you assholes,” Michael says, bristling. “I’m not fucking cute.”

“You’re adorable,” Gavin insists. “It’s not an insult.”

“God help me Gavin, I will bite you so fucking hard.”

\---

After that, Michael had quietly asked around the office--at least, as quietly as you can when asking a chatty bunch of coworkers about something as specific as fucking your boss. They talked about sex in the office plenty and went home with each other about as often, so at least it wasn’t too unusual a conversation.

Ryan, for example, was only too happy to brag about their escapades when Michael spurred him on after lunch.

Geoff and Ryan seemed to have a prolific and varied sex life, Ryan insisting that the boar and bat had gone at it in mind-boggling permutations, bringing in Jack and Lindsay and Griffon almost as often as they ended up solo, Geoff playing the enthusiastic bottom just as often as Ryan.

Michael is only a little hurt that he’s never been asked to join.

\---

From what Michael can work out, any time Gavin or Ray get Geoff alone, it just turns into a non-sexual grooming fest which, while adorable, doesn’t shed too much light on the current situation.

\---

Michael corners Jack that afternoon as the beaver hybrid rolls in for work.

“You and Geoff have fucked alone before, right?”

“Jesus Michael,” Jack says, pushing his glasses up and rubbing his eyes with a furred hand. “Good afternoon to you too.”

“I’m just curious about who’s on top,” Michael says, as if that explains it.

“It’s too fucking early for this shit,” Jack says, turning away from Michael to head into the Achievement Hunter office, his scaled tail dragging heavy behind him. Michael is at his heels.

“Jack come on,” he says. “I’ve sucked your dick before--you can’t even pretend to be shy about this.”

He watches as Jack sets down his bag at his desk, settles heavily down into his chair.

“Both,” Jack says, finally. “Either way. It just depends on the situation.”

“Goddamn it,” Michael says. “Am I the only person in this office who doesn’t get to fuck Geoff? Except Lindsay, I guess.”

“No,” Ray says. “Pretty sure Lindsay tops with Geoff, too.”

Michael and Jack almost jump out of their skin. Neither one had noticed the slow loris sitting silently at his desk.

“Holy shit, Ray,” Michael says.

Ray shrugs and continues silently browsing the internet.

“If it’s bothering you, why don’t you ask Geoff about it,” Jack says. “He’s not exactly guarded about his sexual history.”

“I don’t know,” Michael says, his ears going slack. “It’s kind of embarrassing?”

“This from the kid who demands my sexual history the moment I walk in the door,” Jack says.

\---

Geoff rolls in at 3--an early morning for him. The bat hybrid looks typically disheveled, gulping coffee from an enormous thermos and surveying the office.

“Smells like weasel in here,” he mutters, setting his bag down at his desk.

“Geoff!” Gavin squeaks.

“Love you buddy,” Geoff says.

“You do smell, though,” Michael chimes in.

“Everyone smells to you, don’t they,” the mink says, feigning hurt. “Ray’s got the best nose out of all of us and you don’t hear him complain.”

“That’s because he’s too fucking lazy,” Ryan says, not turning away from his computer.

“Fair enough,” Gavin says.

Michael spends most of the end of his shift trying to come up with some excuse to invite Geoff over--but he psychs himself out again and again over the course of recording a Let’s Play, Trials, and a Play Pals.

\---

Michael always needs a break after Play Pals.

Not that he doesn’t enjoy time with Gavin--but the mink hybrid really does smell, his natural scent acrid and abrasive--and with the combined scents of everyone in the office, sharing a controller with Gavin is about all that Michael’s sense of smell can handle.

So Michael steps out with a can of soda around 6, quietly excusing himself and taking a seat on a picnic bench at the side of a building. He peers down at his phone in the dusk light, scrolling through his Twitter feed.

He hears Geoff first--squeaky door hinges as the hybrid pushes into the outdoors, the gentle ‘swish’ of suede wings settling down against themselves.

And then he can smell Geoff: the mild soap he uses in the shower, the eggs, moths, and hot sauce he had for breakfast before work--and layered under that, the smell of Geoff himself, a woodsy, almost smoky smell.

Geoff doesn’t try to hide his approach, but doesn’t say hello either. He simply walks up behind Michael and begins to palm through his hair, straightening out the tangles with his long fingers before resting at one of Michael’s ears, covered in wiry, coarse fur. Michael leans into the touch as Geoff scratches the base of one ear, his subtly clawed hand raking pleasure that shoots down Michael’s spine.

People always think that dog hybrids want to be petted--a misconception that makes Michael’s skin crawl. You didn’t see people pulling KDin’s delicate chameleon tail or caressing Lindsay’s lynx  whiskers--so what, exactly, made it so apparently appropriate to walk up to him and fondle his ears, Michael would never understand.

Nobody seemed to understand what an intimate touch it was to him, and it’s contact that he’s made very clear he doesn’t want--nipping more than one coworker who didn’t listen. Lindsay and Geoff are the only exceptions within the office, and almost everyone respects it now except for Gavin, who becomes inexplicably handsy when he’s excited.

Michael sighs gratefully as Geoff moves to scratch his other ear now, and he knows his tail is wagging rhythmically in spite of himself. Any stress left over from the recording has dissolved under the other man’s touch. Finally, Geoff disengages and smooths Michael’s hair one more time before taking the bench opposite Michael. Michael watches as Geoff yawns, exposing two white rows of small, sharp teeth. He stretches his arms and wings high behind himself before gathering them back up, smoothing and twirling his mustache. For a hybrid so constantly preoccupied with grooming himself and others, Michael thinks, Geoff certainly maintains a disheveled aesthetic.  

“Heard you all had an interesting conversation over lunch,” Geoff says finally with a smile.

“Damned pig can’t keep his mouth shut,” Michael growls.

“Whoa, whoa,” Geoff says. “Language, wow.”

“If I wanted to talk to you about it, I would’ve asked you,” Michael says.

\---

It’s always fun to get a rise out of Michael, even if it isn’t terribly fair to the terrier. Michael is the most exaggerated, ferocious little hybrid Geoff had ever come across, which makes him intensely interesting.

And so fun to fuck with.

It occurs to Geoff now, two years later, that he may have subconsciously hired Gavin just to fuck with the terrier.

It’s not that he legitimately likes seeing Michael stressed, of course. But it’s funny to watch the smaller man bristle and snap over the slightest things, his coarse little ears flat against his head as he puffs up to face whatever or whoever is pissing him off at the moment.

The fact that he’s not against whining and begging in bed is just an added bonus, as far as Geoff is concerned. Michael had always bottomed so instinctively and enthusiastically, in fact, that it had never even crossed the bat’s mind that Michael might want something different out of their sexual encounters.

But Ryan and Lindsay had eagerly filled Geoff in on the conversation they’d had over lunch as soon as Michael was out of earshot. Jack chimed in from his desk that Michael had begun quizzing him on their sexual history the minute he walked in the door.

After that, Geoff had waited for any cue from Michael to bring it up. And got none.

So, tired of waiting, he watched Michael as he headed for a break and followed him down to the picnic tables outside.

“So,” Geoff says slowly. “Then you don’t want to talk about it?”

Michael’s ears are flat against his head and he’s pretending to be intensely interested in something behind Geoff. Geoff can hear that his tail isn’t wagging anymore, either.

“No,” Michael lies. “I don’t.”

“Well... do you want to come over after work?”

Michael cocks his head, his ears standing half at attention.

“Seriously, Geoff?”

“Not if you don’t want to, but, if you don’t have plans, I thought we could…?”

“Yeah, uh,” Michael says. Geoff can hear the subtle swish of Michael’s tail coming back to life. “Yeah I guess I could come over.”

“Alllllright,” Geoff says, clipped, pushing himself up from the table. “I’ll text you when I leave here, then.”

\---

With their strange scheduling, it feels a little more like a booty call than Michael would prefer.

His phone buzzes to life at 2 a.m. and he bats one of Lindsay’s tufted ears out of his face as he wakes up abruptly. She’s a light sleeper, giving off impossible heat curled up next to Michael, and she opens one large feline eye, turning to regard Michael in the dark.

“Still goin’ over to Geoff’s?” she asks, smiling, smiling and stretching.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll see ya’ for lunch.”

\---

Michael’s at his door a half hour later, sipping a cup of gas station coffee. Geoff’s heard his car approaching from (almost literally) a mile away, and he’s walked through the house turning on a few dim lights as a courtesy.

Geoff answers the door with a whiskey, a second one poured on the counter for Michael.

“Where’s Griffon?” Michael wants to know, stepping in, sniffing the air. Michael gets along famously with his dingo hybrid housemate, and the two would often sniff and chat each other up before Geoff and Michael retire to the bedroom or head out to a bar.

“Ahh, she’s on the east coast this week,” Geoff says. “Probably chainsawing the shit out of something as we speak.”

Michael looks edgy as he peers around the living room, his tail giving him away as it rides high behind him. Geoff crosses to the counter, picking up the tumbler of whiskey and pressing it into Michael’s hand.

\---

The spirit overwhelms Michael’s senses for a moment and he lets it sit on his tongue. A little bit of liquor was always nice, helped Michael to ignore the vast olfactory overstimulation when he entered a home that wasn’t his own. He sighs deeply, standing at the counter, and Geoff is quickly at his back, snaking an arm around his waist. Michael’s tail wants to twitch, but the other man’s weight is trapping it against his leg. He sets the whiskey down onto the counter.

“We don’t have to do this,” Michael says. “Like, I don’t want to force you into this just because I’m curious.”

“Come on, Michael,” Geoff says low into Michael’s neck. “You don’t think I’m curious, too?”

Geoff spins Michael in his grip, and the taller hybrid grinds into Michael’s hip when the two face each other. Michael can’t help but smile--he’s never met someone less shy than Geoff. The bat never needs much of an excuse to transition from normal conversation to dirty talk and it’s as dizzying as it is pleasing.

“Besides,” Geoff says with a sneer. “It’s about time you took care of me.”

“Then come on,” Michael says, pulling Geoff lightly by the wrist towards his bedroom. Geoff’s chuckle is barely audible, deep in his chest, and he follows Michael, the terrier’s tail wagging slowly, dragging the walls of the hallway.

\---

Michael is slow and methodical, and Geoff lets him set the pace. The younger man has been thinking all day, it seems, about what he wanted to do and how he wanted to do it. Far be it from Geoff to stand in the way of Michael’s plans. He’s putty in Michael’s hands.

Michael sits him on the edge of the bed, unbuttoning the front of Geoff’s shirt, and then unzipping the panels at the sides before ghosting the shirt off, being careful not to tangle it up in Geoff’s folded wings. He’s always amused by the gentle care Michael takes with his wings, and it doesn’t matter how many times Geoff explains that they’re not easy to hurt. The terrier hybrid regards them with a sort of hushed reverie, unable to imagine, apparently, what the extra limbs must feel like.

Michael kisses him deeply, lapping into Geoff’s mouth, his tongue velvety and wide, appreciating every plane. Mid-kiss, Michael reaches up and begins to stroke the base of one of Geoff’s ears. And while Michael considers his ears sensitive, he has no idea the type of feeling it gives Geoff when a confident partner gently handles his ears. His ears are rigid, unlike Michael’s expressive appendages, and the backs are lined with downy brown fur. Michael works a hand to stroke one ear’s base, sending pleasure spiraling across Geoff’s scalp. He moans into Michael’s kiss, bites lightly along Michael’s lips as the other man begins to fondle higher up his large ear, stroking the sensitive border between skin and fur at the edge of the ear. Geoff leans into the touch, breaking the kiss, and Michael strokes up the back of his ear confidently before moving to the muscled base of the other ear and repeating the entire pattern. The muscles in Geoff’s body unfurl and go slack at the attention.

Michael knows how much he loves it, of course, but normally Geoff’s controlling the pace, quick to move on. This time Michael takes his time, and standing taller, he begins kissing one of Geoff’s ears. It’s not something he’s done before, and Geoff shudders involuntarily at the stimulation. Michael’s hand is steady at the back of one of the velvety ears as he kisses the naked, sensitive side. He moves down, laying more dry kisses into the sensitive ear while steadying it from the other side with his hand.

And Geoff can hear it--all of it--Michael’s eyelashes as he opens and closes his eyes, his gentle sniffing of the air, the saliva working in his mouth, his light panting angled consciously away from the entrance of Geoff’s ear, his lips brushing together, brushing Geoff’s ear--and it would be deafening if the whole affair weren’t so damned gentle and careful.

Michael moves to the other ear and repeats the process. Geoff’s entire body is slack at the attention.

Finally, tentatively, Michael licks the inside tip of one ear--very gently, very lightly--probably, Geoff realizes, making a concerted effort not to drool. It’s shockingly incredible and Geoff squeaks, barely audible, involuntarily, at the stimulation. Michael takes it as encouragement, laying a long, soft lick along the edge of his ear where soft fur transitions to thin, naked skin. Michael traces the line from the base to the tip--and where the soft kisses and fondling had relaxed Geoff, the lick ignites something in him. He groans as Michael repeats it, moving further away from the border of skin and fur and using his soft, wide tongue to lap the sensitive skin gently from base to tip.

“Jesus, Michael,” Geoff says.

“It’s good?” Michael whispers, aware of Geoff’s sensitivity to noise.

“It’s insanely good,” Geoff says.

Michael continues, moving to the other ear.

“I think you could make me come just from licking my fucking ears,” Geoff says, sighing, squeezing Michael’s hips as he continues to lap lightly.

\---

Michael can feel Geoff falling apart underneath him and he takes his time with the man’s large ears. The inside of Geoff’s ears smell and taste like him, and Michael enjoys the feeling of running his sensitive tongue over the ridges of cartilage that line Geoff’s ears. As Michael eases into the slow rhythm of tending to them, he finally understands, maybe, the reason why Geoff and Ray so often groom each other to sleep

But as Michael relaxes, Geoff winds up. Michael wonders idly what it must feel like. Geoff can barely sit still now--moaning and squirming on the edge of the bed. Hearing the other man become needy under his touch is a surprising turn on, and Michael feels like he could just sit here like a weirdo, licking the bat’s ears until sunrise. But he really is about to drool now, and his own arousal is becoming more insistent as Geoff gets more vocal.

“Please, Michael,” Geoff says, pulling at Michael’s shirt.

He presses a few concluding kisses into Geoff’s ear before moving to his neck, lapping the sensitive skin lightly, kissing and biting the soft skin covering the ropey muscle that wraps his shoulders to compensate for his large wings. Michael strokes his chest, his hips, before finally running a hand with deliberate slowness over Geoff’s groin. The man goes taut at the contact.

Geoff’s noise begins as a moan but transitions into a high whine as Michael continues to palm his erection through his jeans.

Michael shoulders the other man lightly, pressing him to move further up onto the bed and going to work at undressing him. Geoff digs his large clawed feet into the bed, pushing back and making room quickly. By the time Michael pulls the tight jeans down the other man’s hips, over his small tufted tail, Geoff is practically squeaking again, his noises moving unbidden into a higher register. He adjusts his wings, propping himself back onto them. Michael discards the jeans and underwear and, still fully clothed himself, straddles Geoff’s hips.

“Don’t worry,” Michael says softly. “I’m gonna take care of you, Geoff.”

Geoff can’t even manage a smile and he grinds up into Michael’s hips. Michael admires the other man’s face in the low light, his mouth slack and exposing a row of sharp lower teeth, his eyes sleepy and heavy lidded. Michael bites and kisses down the man’s naked torso. Moaning at Michael’s touch, Geoff reaches down to unbutton the other man’s pants, pushing the garment down to Michael’s hips before it catches on his tail. Michael heaves to the side of the bed to kick off his shoes and socks and finish the job of taking off his pants.

He removes a small bottle of lube from one pocket and tosses it to the other side of Geoff. Geoff sees it even in the dim light and chuckles.

“You’re like a boy scout, Michael,” Geoff says, watching Michael undress.

Michael strips off his shirt before moving back and taking his spot between Geoff’s knees.

\---

Michael’s slow pace is making Geoff insane, but he knows it’s probably payback for the many times Geoff had teased him until he was strung out and panting.

Still, he can’t be thankful enough when Michael finally moves to tend to his erection, and Geoff moans his name into the air.

Michael had been restrained with his ears, sensing that Geoff would find too much stimulation and saliva unpleasant. But he shows no such restraint with the lower half of Geoff’s body now, slapping obscene, wet licks up and down Geoff’s thighs, his belly, the base of his weeping erection. With anyone else, it might’ve been disgusting--but Michael usually shows so much restraint with his tongue that Geoff loves it when the other man gives in, drooling and licking and working his long tongue to its full capabilities.

Michael can only tease for a moment before he begins to lay long, sucking strokes up and down Geoff’s cock--and after the session with his ears, Geoff appreciates the warm, steady contact. He reaches both hands down and buries his fingers into Michael’s hair, stroking the base of his ears as Michael hums down onto him.

It’s much too short though, and just as Michael builds a fast rhythm, he pulls away.

“I want you to turn over,” Michael says, not even bothering to raise his voice above a whisper--he knows Geoff can hear it all. Michael sits back on his heels as Geoff quickly uses the leverage he has with his wings to spin on the bed, pausing there on all fours and allowing Michael to have the next move.

He feels Michael’s hands on his hips, and the younger man scoots forward to grind his hips into Geoff’s, letting some of his weight fall across the larger man. Geoff lets himself be pushed down and he extends his wings a quarter of their span to give Michael some of his bare back to rest against.

\---

Michael’s never had the pleasure of this vantage point before, and even as he grinds against Geoff’s ass, he’s distracted by the sight of the bat’s wings. He pulls Geoff’s hips up slightly and the man raises up to put his back closer to Michael’s torso, kneeling. Michael lets his grip on Geoff’s hips go, running his palms up the bare center of Geoff’s back before tracing the muscles at the base of his wings. Geoff hums appreciatively, flaring his wings out wider now, pressing them back so that their suede-feeling tips caress Michael’s hips. Michael surveys the scene for a moment, everything in view taken up by Geoff and his impressive wingspan, his world awash in soft brown fluff and the dark, naked skin of Geoff’s wings.

Slowly, he presses Geoff back down onto the bed, and as he kisses down Geoff’s spine, the other man folds and arranges his wings back down onto his back. Geoff allows himself to be pushed face down, and he begins to let his hips slide down towards the bed as well--but Michael grabs him firmly, pulling his hips back into the air as his kisses reach the base of Geoff’s short tail. His kisses turn to licks, then, and Michael laps up the backs of Geoff’s thighs before licking the fleshy pads of his ass cheeks. Geoff huffs slightly and Michael knows he’s tickling the other man--doesn’t care--but moves to massage and spread him, licking the backs of his balls, the sensitive skin behind them, and finally, slowly, he traces Geoff’s entrance.

Geoff’s moans become guttural as Michael alternates kisses with licks, long strokes with short, stroking Geoff’s ass with his tongue, his fingers, his lips, until the other man is rolling his hips into the air.

Michael feels something cold and hard press into his forearm, and he looks down. Geoff’s clawed hand has appeared between his thighs, offering up the small bottle of lube Michael brought.

“Please, Michael,” Geoff begs. Michael smiles, taking the bottle, kneeling between Geoff’s legs. Michael’s hands are covered in his own saliva and he wipes them both lazily down the bedspread, making a mental note that he’ll owe Geoff a few bucks for laundry. He takes his time, squirting lube into his palm, slicking one finger thoroughly before gripping Geoff’s hip, pressing his finger against Geoff’s entrance. Geoff moans, rocking backwards, and Michael pushes in slowly.

Despite having been on the receiving end of the ritual so many times, Michael is unsure of what to expect. Would Geoff need a lot of prep? Would Geoff enjoy being stretched as much as Michael always did? Geoff is warm and impossibly tight around his finger as Michael works gently. It’s just a moment, though, before Geoff is rolling his hips, pliant and panting under Michael. Michael uses his free hand to stroke up and down Geoff’s tufted tail as the man ruts against his finger. Finally he withdraws, slicking a second finger, repeating the motions as Geoff gets more insistent. His pace quickens, his moans reaching a rhythm, and Michael’s other hand begins to tend to his own erection. He’s not sure, from this point of view, how he’s supposed to know when Geoff is ready. But he’s only too happy to stroke himself to the sights and sounds of Geoff writhing under him.

“Michael, please,” Geoff says finally, still fucking himself on Michael’s fingers.

“Please what?” Michael teases, lazily stroking himself.

“Please fuck me Michael,” Geoff says, his voice low. “I want you to fuck me now.”

Michael withdraws his hand and Geoff begins to whine--doesn’t stop whining and begging--as Michael coats himself, feeling harder than he can remember being in the recent past.

\---

Geoff only ceases his begging when he feels Michael take his position behind him. Geoff feels Michael's cock firm against his entrance, but before he pushes in, Michael hauls Geoff roughly up on all fours. Geoff moans at the handling, grinding back as Michael positions himself again, finally pushing in, impossibly slow.

It’s Michael’s turn to whine now. He’s only halfway into Geoff when he stops--overwhelmed, maybe--and Geoff lets him sit like that for a moment before he pushes his hips, rolling back slowly, sinking himself down onto Michael’s cock, the man’s hands grasping hard at his naked hips.

“Jesus, Geoff,” Michael stutters. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Geoff can’t help but to utter a low chuckle. Michael does sound like he’s having a religious experience. He collapses slowly down across Geoff’s back, his wings, and Geoff easily supports the weight of the smaller man as Michael begins to gently stroke into him.

Geoff lets Michael set the pace at first, and Michael goes incredibly slow, tenderly reaching up to caress the backs of his wings, the base of his ears as he rocks into Geoff.

“Do you need more lube?” Michael asks, breathless.

“No, Michael,” Geoff says, reassuring. “You’re doing fine.”

“Jesus Geoff,” Michael pants. “This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

Geoff begins to rock into the slow thrusts, encouraging Michael to go harder, deeper. Michael gets the message, pulling off of Geoff’s back and grabbing him by the hips again to rock deeper. The new angle hits Geoff just right, and he groans appreciatively, grinding back hard as Michael strokes against his prostate. Michael continues his deep, slow strokes, has his hands wander again across Geoff’s back, pausing at his tail. It’s wonderful, of course, but Geoff can only take so much and doesn’t know how to communicate to Michael that he needs more without insulting the other man.

“Let me get on top,” Geoff finally says, low. He feels Michael twitch.

“Are you sure?”

Geoff hums affirmatively and Michael slowly withdraws.

\---

Michael lounges back against the pillows then and watches Geoff straddle his hips. Geoff stretches his wings, letting them relax slack at his sides as he grabs the base of Michael’s cock before gracefully sinking down onto him. It’s one of the most incredible things Michael’s ever witnessed--the sight alone could probably make him come--and he files it away for the future.

Their combined weight creates a divot in the bed as Geoff slowly begins rolling his hips over Michael. He’s impossibly good at it and the sensation is that of a smooth, tight, and never-ending stroke. For the moment, Michael simply lets himself be fucked, taking in the scene passively as Geoff rolls onto him, appreciating in the dim light the sight of Geoff’s bare chest, the dark tattoos snaking up and down his arms and across his shoulders, the velvety thatch of hair above Geoff’s erection. It’s completely incredible. He chances a hand up to stroke Geoff’s belly and the man rocks into his touch, moaning. Michael realizes when Geoff smiles down at him that he’s panting silently.

Geoff leans down then, kissing and biting Michael’s neck as he fucks him, and Michael chokes out a whine. Geoff begins to ride him in earnest after a moment, his pace quickening.

“Jesus Geoff,” Michael says, humming. “You’re fucking amazing.”

\---

As Michael reaches up to grab Geoff’s hips for purchase, Geoff pushes himself backwards again, his knees supporting his weight as he rides Michael. The exhibitionist in him loves to watch Michael watch him, the terrier hybrid’s eyes raking up and down Geoff’s body before coming to rest on Geoff’s hips as he fucks himself down onto Michael. He knows the younger man is enjoying the show and he’s happy to oblige, moaning and smiling himself.

\---

Geoff’s really showing off now, Michael knows, and it’s incredible. One wrist is behind his neck, as Geoff throws his head back and partially extends his wings for balance, his hips rolls with abandon. His other hand is down at his own cock, and he touches himself in exaggerated strokes as Michael watches. Fleetingly, Michael considers the fact that somehow, even as a bottom, Geoff has controlled the entire exchange--but he’s too far gone in the pleasure of the situation to care, even as Geoff looks down at him from heavy-lidded eyes, smiling a toothy grin under his mustache.

“I want you to come for me, Michael,” Geoff says in a thick whisper, maintaining his brutal pace.

\---

At that, Geoff finds himself being pulled down into a kiss, the man beneath him seemingly coming back to life. Michael’s hands dig into his hips and the man begins to buck hard from below, finally matching the pace Geoff has set, rocking into Geoff’s prostate. Michael snakes a slick hand between them, stroking Geoff confidently--and the combination of sensations is too much for Geoff--Michael both filling and stroking him.

“I’m gonna come, Michael,” Geoff chokes out, faster than he had anticipated.

“Good,” Michael snarls as he bucks into Geoff.

The dim room spirals away from Geoff as Michael strokes and fucks him to completion, the whole loud world becoming fuzzy, quiet, and impossibly far away as pleasure unfurls into what feels like every cell of his body, his muscles no longer his own as he jerks and presses into Michael’s touch, being stroked in a confident rhythm inside and out, waves of pleasure crashing around him, through his extremities as he breathes a deep moan--and then the familiar tightness of his lover coming inside of him--Geoff’s senses regaining a foothold in reality as Michael curses his way through the final strokes of orgasm before pulling Geoff down again into a final breathless kiss.

Geoff rests on Michael’s chest, his knees digging into the mattress, trying to find the motivation to move and collapse onto the bed. They lay there sweating and breathing together.

“Geoff,” Michael whispers after a minute.

Geoff grunts softing. “Hm?”

“You’re… crushing me.”

Geoff puffs a laugh through his nose, quickly rolling off of Michael to lay face down onto the bed. He arranges his wings softly before peering over at the terrier.

“Is your curiosity satisfied?” he hums as Michael takes a deep breath.

“No,” Michael says.

“No?” Geoff echoes, propping himself up on an elbow. “Seriously?”

“No,” Michael repeats. “Further research is definitely needed. Immediately. Like, tomorrow.”

Geoff rolls his eyes and reaches a hand up to stroke one of Michael’s ears.

“I guess there’s plenty of time for more research,” he says. “In the name of science, of course.”

Michael nods gravely, closing his eyes and leaning into Geoff’s touch.

  
  



End file.
